


No Dress Code: Gone Fishin’

by GuileandGall



Series: No Dress Code [12]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Card Games, F/M, Fluff, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Just another playful bit of silly fluff, featuring Furia and Eli being ridiculously adorable.





	No Dress Code: Gone Fishin’

**Author's Note:**

> Just do not ask why a bunch of rock stars and their crew are playing Go Fish. Just don’t. It’s better for all of us.

Furia knew better than to say it. Just looking in his eyes, she could predict the outcome. But she said it anyway. “Come over here and make me.”

His lips curled into the most delicious cross between a smile and a smirk. His mirthful eyes sparkled like the sea on a sunny day; the card game instantly forgotten. He threw the cards down on the table and leaned forward. He palms pressed flat on the table, the muscles cording down his arms rippling and shifting under inked skin. 

That intense gaze bored into her, making it impossible to look away. Neither of them heeded the objections of the other players as he crawled across the table like a predator on the prowl. Once he reached her side, Eli gripped the arms of her chair and loomed over her.

The pounding of her heart against her ribcage made it hard to catch her breath; well, actually it probably wasn’t  _only_  that. 

“I said,” his nose brushed against hers, “‘Give me all your sevens,’“ he reiterated in a tone that was entirely inappropriate for a tipsy game of Go, Fish. He shifted only slightly to glance at the cards in her hand–completely devoid of sevens. When he looked back into her hazel eyes, his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t even have any.”

“I told you that, but you insisted,” she replied, letting the back of her index finger trail up his neck.

“And I came all the way over here for sevens.”

Before the pout could reach full magnitude, her finger crooked under his chin and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Guess you’ll just have to go back empty handed.”

Eli hummed, a sound more like a content purr than the thoughtful momentary glance upward might suggest. “I think not, love.” He proceeded to crawl off the table and into her lap, throwing his long legs over the arm of her chair as Furia giggled and wriggled to find a comfortable spot beneath him. “Pass me my cards. And no peeking, Matt,” he scolded at the keyboardist who was far too busy rolling his eyes at the display.

“You know,” Furia began, “this might be considered collusion.”

“And?” Eli replied, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. Furia just chuckled at him as he used it to pull her closer. His lips teased against hers until Johnny gruffly cleared his throat and held out Eli’s cards to him. “It’s my turn still, right?”

“No!” the table answered in unison.


End file.
